


Imrahil's Bedtime Tale

by eschscholzia



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Don't copy to another site, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tale Style, Fic within a Fic, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Númenor, Teitho Fanfiction Contest, Unhealthy Relationships, small Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eschscholzia/pseuds/eschscholzia
Summary: Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, tells his younger children his new and improved version of the fairy tale of Erendis and Aldarion. (In which the love of a kind, responsible woman and the assistance of the Valar can do a great deal, but can only go so far when a guy Just Doesn't Get It.) This story was an entry in the Joker 2018 contest for Teitho for the theme "Night."





	Imrahil's Bedtime Tale

Long ago on the far away island of Númenor, there was a princess named Erendis who lived very happily in her white cottage in Emerië with her daughter Ancalimë. Their house was next to a big green meadow and had pastures full of sheep….

_ “Sheep!” Lothíriel bounced on her cushion, clapping her hands. Her stuffed lamb, Mbā, fell to her lap.  _

_ Amrothos rolled his eyes. “You think every story is about sheep, Thíri. Ada said ‘princess.’ This is a story about a princess. If he meant sheep he would have started it with ‘long ago in Númenor there was a sheep.’” _

_ Lothíriel scowled and hugged Mbā close to her chest. Imrahil glanced between the two small forms on the hearthrug and began again:  _

They were very happy, except for one thing that cast an unhappy pall. Erendis’s husband Aldarion was scatterbrained and had a distressing tendency to wander off. He loved sailing more than anything in the world, almost more than he loved Erendis and Ancalimë.  Aldarion had a ship bigger than any house, named Eämbar. He sailed the Eämbar for days and nights across the great ocean to reach Middle-Earth, where he went exploring. Sometimes he would get far away on an adventure, and realize he had gone so far he couldn’t get home. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ want _ to come home, it was that he had a terrible habit of accepting missions from Gil-Galad that would make him lose track of time.  

Since Aldarion was the Crown Prince, it was very important that he sail home in time to carry out his official duties. Erendis missed her husband, and tried to help him remember to do everything. His most important princely task was to help his father lead the thrice-yearly Prayers of the Faithful on the high mountain of Númenor. Because looking after Aldarion was a task more than was humanly possible, Erendis prayed to the Valar, asking them for help: 

“Oh mighty Valar, hear the pleas of your servant, Erendis. Grant me a boon that my husband may return speedily to us for the Erukyermë.” 

The Vala Ulmo heard her prayer. The next morning, as she sat by the brook of her garden, a sparkling iridescent fish came to her. It carried a sprig of watercress in its mouth. She gaped in wonder as the fish placed it on the mossy bank at her knee, then spoke, saying:

“Bind the watercress into the Bough of Return. As long as the watercress remains, your husband will have calm seas and favorable currents.” 

Still amazed, she did as the fish said and gave the Bough of Return to her husband for the prow of Eämbar . Her husband sailed far and long, but he came home just in time to go with Erendis and Ancalimë to the high mountain to say the Erukyermë with his father the king. 

The sea called to Aldarion, though, and he did not tarry long with his family, but soon expressed a desire to go back. He kissed his wife and hugged his daughter and sailed away. One afternoon while he was gone, the ship’s cook was making soup. They had been gone so long that the ship’s stores were low. The cook spied the watercress in the Bough of Return. 

“Aha!” he said. “It is just the thing to flavor my soup!” 

And he plucked it out.

That evening, as the prince and his sailors ate the delicious soup, terrifying black clouds rolled in from the horizon. A fierce gale blew for seven days and nights. The ship was blown far off course and the masts were damaged. Finally, much later than they were expected, the Eämbar limped into port at Rómenna. 

_ “Did he miss his favorite pillow?” Lothíriel asked.  _

_ Amrothos shook his head. “No, silly. He had a second one on his ship.”  _

Aldarion’s family was overjoyed to see him. They were greatly relieved, especially when they saw how badly the ship was damaged. 

“Perhaps he will stay home this time, and not go to sea again,” everyone thought. 

The sea called to Aldarion, though, and he did not tarry long with his family, but soon expressed a desire to go back. Erendis prayed a second time to the Valar, asking them for help: 

“Oh mighty Valar, hear the pleas of your servant, Erendis. Grant me a boon that my husband may return speedily to me for the Erulaitalë.” 

The Vala Varda heard her prayer. The next evening, as Erendis walked in the twilight, a star fell from the sky. She reached out her hand to catch it; it fell through her fingers into a patch of elanor at her feet. As it fell, the star sang to her:  

“Bind the elanor into the Bough of Return. As long as the elanor is fresh, your husband will have blue skies and the light of twinkling stars to steer his ship by.”

Still amazed, she did as the star said and gave the Bough of Return to her husband for the prow of Eämbar. Her husband sailed far and long, but he came home just in time to go with Erendis and Ancalimë to the high mountain to say the Erulaitalë with his father the king. 

The sea called to Aldarion, though, and he did not tarry long with his family, but soon expressed a desire to go back. He kissed his wife and hugged his daughter and sailed away. While he was gone, he sailed far to the south, where the sun grew hot and the pole star sank to the horizon. Under the heat of the sun, the elanor flower began to wilt and fade. Aldarion tried to revive it by splashing it with water. Alas, he had only sea water, and the salt water caused it to wilt still further. Finally it collapsed under the touch of his hand, brown and rotten, staining the green leaves of the bough. 

That day a haze settled over the sea. The stars were occluded at night, and the sun was hidden by clouds at day. Fresh water began to run out, and they had to collect dew on the sails to drink. Growing desperate, they sailed home by dead reckoning. Exhausted and thirsty, the Eämbar sailed into the harbor. 

_ “He should have asked his Naneth for a glass of water,” Amrothos opined. He was older than Thíri, and wiser in the ways of the survival in the big world. _

_ Lothíriel laid her head on her cushion, curled up around her lamb. Her eyelids were growing heavy. _

Aldarion’s family was overjoyed and relieved to see them, especially when they saw how thin and sick each of the sailors were. 

“Surely he will stay home this time, and not go to sea again,” everyone thought. 

The sea called to Aldarion, though, and he did not tarry long with his family, but soon expressed a desire to go back. Erendis prayed a third time to the Valar, asking them for help: 

“Oh mighty Valar, hear the pleas of your servant, Erendis. Grant me a boon that my husband may return speedily to me for the Eruhantalë.” 

The Vala Manwë heard her prayer. Erendis walked at midday amongst the weeping willow trees surrounding her cottage, when a large eagle feather fell from the sky. It rested lightly on her shoulder. As she gazed at its beauty, the winds whispered to her:

“Bind the feather into the Bough of Return. As long as the feather remains, your husband will have fair winds to fill his sails.”

Still amazed, she did as the winds said and gave the Bough of Return to her husband for the prow of Eämbar. Her husband sailed far and long, but he came home just in time to go with Erendis and Ancalimë to the high mountain to say the Eruhantalë with his father the king. 

The sea called to Aldarion, though, and he did not tarry long with his family, but soon expressed a desire to go back. His wife and daughter and parents begged him to stay. He would not listen to them, but was resolved to go. He tried to kiss his wife but her face was hard and set from him. He hugged his daughter and sailed away. While he was gone, he sailed far to the north, where the cold winds blew night and day, and small islands of ice floated. The ship’s second mate was keeping records of the journey, when his last quill snapped in two. He remembered the eagle feather bound into the Bough of Return. 

“That eagle feather will make me a fine quill for my records. With this, I will write in the fairest hand of any ship’s clerk.” 

He pried the feather loose, and soon carved it into a fine nib. That night the winds blew even harder and colder out of the north. As the crew lay in their bunks, it sounded like the wail of a lost woman howling around the windowsills. When the sun came up, the deck was covered in hoarfrost and the ship was completely surrounded by pack ice. 

The Eämbar was stuck in the ice for months. The sun completely disappeared, for it was winter. The pack ice shifted and groaned; the mighty ship creaked under the pressure. Some days the crew thought the pack ice would crush the ship within its grasp. They were forced to go out by torchlight to hunt the great white bears that roamed, and spear seals for food. 

Aldarion realized his foolishness; he had placed his life and that of his crew in grave danger. “Nienna, lady of mercy!” he cried out. “Weep for us sailors. I repent.”

The next morning, at midday by the ship’s sand clocks, the sun rose briefly over the horizon. Each day the daylight grew, and with it the sun’s warmth. Finally the pack ice broke, and in the midst, the spout of a great whale-fish was seen. The whale-fish took the anchor chain of the Eämbar in its mouth, and swam, towing the ship behind it. After three days they were free of the ice. The whale-fish swam and swam, and finally it swam right to the harbormouth of Rómenna. It did not cross the bar, but dropped the chain. Then it turned and leapt out of the sea with a great twisting motion, falling backwards in a great splash. It swam back out to sea and was not seen again. 

Aldarion knew that this was a sign. He fell at his wife’s feet on the dock and wept, begging her forgiveness.   

_ “It’s time for bed, you two.” Three heads snapped up, as they saw Findis standing in the doorway. Her gentle smile was as warm as the glowing fire next to them.  _

_ “Naneth! Tucky-in, please!” Amrothos pleaded. Lothíriel raised her arms to Findis, Mbā waving precariously through the air. Soon Findis had Lothíriel’s small form nestled in one arm, while leading Amrothos with the other. The procession made its way across the nursery to their beds, with Imrahil following behind. After two children and a small sheep were tucked in, the parents paused, standing by the doorway for one last look. Findis slipped her hand into Imrahil’s, leaning her head on his shoulder.  _

_ “You know that is entirely not how it happened, Imrahil?” _

_ Imrahil turned and gently leaned in, placing a kiss on her temple. “Yes, Melui. But I can’t tell the children the true story, and in any case, I like my version better.” _

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this, once I got over my six-month writing block. I think that the trainwreck of a relationship that was Aldarion and Erendis would make perfect fodder for a Carolyn Hax advice column. I regret nothing.


End file.
